


take what you can

by meggiewrites



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Accidental Crewmate Acquisition, Alternate Universe - Pirate, First Mate Mats, I did -2 research for this, M/M, Quartermaster Benni, captain thomas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 17:36:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15418098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meggiewrites/pseuds/meggiewrites
Summary: For Mats, becoming a pirate was a choice. The way he falls in love with a clerk with a galaxy of freckles on his face though, wasn't part of his plan at all.Or,“You can’t just take whatever you’d like!” Mats looks him dead in the eyes. “Yes, I can. Just watch me.”





	take what you can

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [a pirate's life for me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13195257) by [mm_nani](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mm_nani/pseuds/mm_nani). 



> I don't know why, but I have been pondering pirates today. The pirate AU fic Nani wrote for me last Christmas, to be exact, and the long story I one day want to write for it. I was too much of a chicken to sit down and write that one, so for the beginning, have a short Hömmels piece in the same universe.
> 
> Thanks to Nani for inspiring this, to Temsah – since our short talks about this verse also sorta inspired this – and Sevde of course, for always supporting me in whatever crap I come up with XD
> 
> Unbeta'd, enjoy!

For Mats, becoming a pirate was a choice.

As the firstborn son of a rich family he was destined to be his father’s heir – but then, his father had died when he’d been thirteen, and his mother’s new husband, now in charge of the fortune that would have belonged to Mats, had he been off age, despised him.

It was during that time he started to spend more time down at the docks in the sun, escaping the acid smell of the mansion, befriending the children of the common folk, who used the harbour as their playground.

There, he met Thomas, the lanky orphan of a barmaid and a sailor he had never met – Thomas, with a quick tongue that rivalled Mats’.

Thomas would do whatever work he could find for a bit of coin, trying to survive on his own. Most of the time he poured beer for the sailors and officers in one of the taverns, but by the time both he and Mats were slowly becoming men, he found work on a ship.

Mats, still under his stepfather’s yoke, jaded from years of abuse, saw his closest friend off with a bitter taste in his mouth, knowing that now, after his mother had succumbed to an infection the winter before, he was well and truly alone.

It would be years until they saw each other again, and when they did, it was an accidental meeting in the same tavern Thomas had so often worked at.

Mats almost didn’t recognize his friend; he had grown taller, more confident, even if his frame was still as slender as it had always been.

He wore a dark red coat that had a couple holes in it, a big rimmed hat adorned with feathers, and a belt with a rapier around his waist. He looked almost a bit dangerous, even if his mischievous smirk was the same that Mats remembered well.

Judging from his attire, Mats wasn't even too surprised when Thomas told him about his new profession, even if he was taken aback, that even at such a young age, he had made captain; but Thomas only shrugged.

“Our last captain was a tyrant, especially to the younger crewmembers. I started a mutiny, and afterwards they elected me captain.”

He leant forwards on the table, looking Mats dead in the eye. “I still need a first mate, though.”

It took Mats four seconds to volunteer.

 

*

 

It has taken them exactly a year to realize that they needed someone to take care of their finances and organization. Their captures are plenty, their bounty many, but with the way their men like enjoy themselves whenever they visit a port, and the expenses they have to make to fix up their ship after every battle, there is never much left of it.

One day, Thomas asks Mats to come see him and sighs before stating the obvious. “We need a quartermaster.”

Most of their men aren’t able to read or write. Thomas manages both, albeit slightly wobbly, but Mats is the only one with a formal education. Considering that on a pirate ship, the quartermaster is the highest authority after the captain, he would have liked to assume that post himself, but as he quickly has to admit, he has always struggled with numbers, preferring to study languages or debate about politics instead.

They are currently docked at a port, stocking up their food supplies and selling some of their bounty.

Usually, buying fresh fruit to keep them all healthy is up to Marc, their cook, but he caught a stubborn cold a couple days ago that has left him laying in his hammock for the whole day.

Mats scowls when Thomas drops the task on him instead, while he goes out to look for a second-in-command.

The big, covered market is centralized here, organized by the trading company, and you pay for your goods at the entrance when you leave. Mats carries two heavy crates loaded with bananas and apples. He sighs in relief when he can set them down for a minute.

He blinks when he catches the first glimpse of the clerk in front of him.

He’s blond, with shining blue eyes, his skin sun-kissed but littered with freckles. He’s beautiful. For a second, Mats forgets how to breathe.

Then, he realizes the way the man is staring at his two crates and then at the two shilling he placed on the table with scrutiny.

“That’s not enough,” he says, scrunching up his eyebrows.

Mats huffs and pats his actually empty pockets. Dammit Thomas. “The vendor told me it would be!”

(Several times already he has complained to Thomas as to why they even need to buy food at all. “We can just steal it! It’s the same as robbing their ships, isn’t it?”

Thomas only sighed. “No Mats, it isn’t. The big difference is that there’s a much higher chance to get caught and sent to prison, even if the penalty for theft might not be as final as the one for piracy is.”

He shut down Mats’ suggestion to go harvest the things they needed themselves before he could even make it.)

“Well, it’s not.” The clerk says, going back to his checkbook.

Mats shrugs. He might find the man attractive, but he’s not gonna take shit from him anyway. “Take the two shilling or don’t, but I’m taking this with me.”

The clerk gapes at him. “You can’t just take whatever you’d like!”

Mats looks him dead in the eyes. “Yes, I can. Just watch me.” And with that, he takes his two shilling and puts them back in his pocket before he picks up his crates and continues to walk out of the market.

It takes the clerk several seconds to walk around his table, and apparently he doesn’t deem Mats troubling enough to alert the guards that are hovering a few feet away in the shadow of some palm trees.

He runs after him, but Mats quickens his pace, quickly lets himself blend into the crowd. He’s always been good at it, despite his height, and when he checks over his shoulder, he can’t see the man’s tuft of blond hair anymore. Pity, Mats thinks, but then quickly makes his way down to the harbour.

 

*

 

They aren’t so infamous yet that they can’t dock their ship in a normal harbour without getting recognized (and imprisoned). The _Black Eagle_ , as the ship is called, is moored at the last dock. She’s not too big, and endorsed with a flag of the British Empire and the habit of a crew of run-of-the-mill merchants, no one pays them much attention.

Sure, they don’t have the official papers nor intent to pay the necessary taxes, but by the time the harbourmaster will realize that, they will long be gone. Already, they’re sneakily pulling in the ropes.

Thomas awaits Mats with a scowl that immediately tells him that his hunt for a quartermaster hasn’t been successful.

“Too prim and proper, all of them. They probably would have ratted me out as soon as I would have implied that we’re a pirate ship,” he grumbles, then stops short as he looks over Mats shoulders.

“Does he belong to you?”

Mats spins around and swears as he recognizes the market clerk, who has just climbed on board. But before he can say something, the clerk beats him to it.

“No, I don’t. He,” he points at Mats, “stole from the market. I deemed him an alright guy – albeit an asshole – so I didn’t alert the guards and followed him myself instead, but now considering what I just heard ...”

Thomas, wincing slightly, pulls out his pistol, pointing it at the guy's stomach.

“Considering what you just heard, we can’t just let you go. Cast off!” he yells at the crew, and with a jolt, the ship starts to move.

 

*****

 

“This is all your fault,” the clerk scowls. Initially, Thomas wanted to tie his hands, but when he realized that the clerk neither seemed intimidated nor made any attempts to escape, he just put him under Mats supervision.

(“It’s your fault that he’s here, now you deal with him.”)

Mats rolls his eyes. “If you had let me get away with my fruit, you wouldn’t be here either, dipshit.”

He knows he’s not exactly enforcing the scary pirate stereotype, but he’s still somewhat intrigued by the man and his stubborn scowling. The fact that he’s now basically the hostage of a bunch of pirates but still looks oddly defiant and not afraid at all impresses him.

“What’s your name anyway?” The clerk asks, shoving his hands in his pockets, staring at the slowly disappearing port on the horizon.

“Mats,” Mats says.

The blond sighs. “I’m Benedikt. And I still think you’re an asshole for dragging me into this.”

 

*

 

Benedikt fits into their crew rather nicely. He’s an alright guy, Mats is delighted to find out, and not unforgiving at all.

When Mats asks if he plans on leaving again – they suggested to drop him off half a day from the next port; by the time he would have been able to give alarm, they would have long been gone – he only shrugs. “It’s not like they were paying me well. And I don’t have a family to go back to.”

He is good with numbers and has a natural authority, and soon enough, all the younger crew members wrapped around his little finger. Some of them have even started calling him ‘mother’ jokingly.

When Thomas calls for a vote to determine a quartermaster, Mats isn’t surprised when the odds aren’t in his favour. All the while, his fleeting first attraction develops into genuine interest. Thomas calls his flirting obvious, but Benedikt doesn’t seem to notice or acknowledge it.

“You need to be more upfront about it,” Thomas says one quiet night when they’re having a sip of rum in the captain’s cabin.

So Mats is. “You look beautiful today, Bene,” he tells him while they’re practicing their fencing skills. It’s almost appalling how Benedikt is already better at it than him after only a couple months.

The older man simply disarms him once more.

 

*

 

“Your eyes are the colour of a clear summer sky. When there’s just the right amount of wind to sail and –”

“Oh, will you shut up!”

Mats thanks the heavens (Thomas) for assigning Benedikt the hammock next to his own. It’s been half a year since their quartermaster became part of the crew, and still, he seems to be immune to Mats’ advances.

He pouts, then yelps when Benedikt suddenly gets up and squeezes into his hammock. He is warm against his body, and despite everything in him rejoicing, Mats can’t deny that he’s taken aback.

“What is this?” he squeaks, then immediately shuts up when he feels Benedikt’s lips against his own.

“You’re insufferable, did you know that?”

Mats only hums before he pulls him in for another kiss.

They both freeze when Toni shouts “Take your lover’s quarrel elsewhere, some people are trying to sleep!” from the other side of the ship.

 

*

 

“I love you, you know?” Mats says quietly, almost a year later. They’re both exhausted and bloodied.

Their last capture hasn’t gone as smooth as intended, and now, they have to get rid of the dead bodies of their enemies littering their ship. It’s gruesome work that no one of them likes to do. They’re thieves, not murderers.

Benedikt is working quietly and efficiently, sowing the cloth closed with an precise focus.

Now, he quickly shoots Mats a look, and despite the blood on his hands, this life that Mats dragged him into that he didn’t want, he smiles. “Of course I do.”

He doesn’t add that he loves him too, doesn’t have to, not when Mats still feels his handprints on his back, his lips against his cheeks.

Mats looks at him, at the curve of his cheekbones and his hair that is slowly getting more sparse. Then, he does what he does best. He doesn’t think.

“I want to marry you.”

He beams at Bene when the quartermaster takes his hand, placing a gentle kiss on it.

 

*

 

(Thomas raises his eyebrows at their request, then continues to marry them in front of the crew already the next day.)

 

**Author's Note:**

>   * Mats actually was 'on warpath' with math and the other sciences in school
>   * Their ship is named after the eagle on the DFB crest/Germany's heraldic animal
>   * Again, I did like zero research for this. I promise I will do better with the longer fic
>   * I apologize for the shortness!
>   * (Nani, I hope you liked this)
>   * Title from a PotC movie. Of course
>   * I write FICTION about real people. None of this is intended to harm them or their reputation in any way
> 

> 
> Please leave kudos and maybe a comment if you liked it! | [tumblr](http://manuelmueller.tumblr.com/)


End file.
